literature

Alex's Day

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Alex stared in mortification at her perfectly typed essay, now scarred a brutal red by her teacher’s marks. “Alex…” her teacher began, her delicate brown eyes promising hope. Alex gazed vacantly back at Miss Tendelli, watching her perfectly symmetrical mouth form kind encouraging words. Alex wished these words would stick like glue, but they slid off her like water droplets on oil. The truth was, once these words were deciphered and translated they promised nothing more than a life on the streets; Alex was simply horrendous at English and nothing that was said or done could improve it.

A sharp cackle filled the room and she snapped her head up to see Brittany laughing at her. Alex smiled a mischievous smile back. To the onlooker it looked like politeness or the smile of a friend, but internally Alex knew she was smiling for one reason only, for no matter how badly she performed in English one thing was always a definite; Brittany would always do worse.

As her attention was drawn back to Miss Tendelli, Alex sat wondering why her teacher tried so hard. Clearly the class was a lifeless bunch, going through the motions of year twelve without so much as lifting a pen to paper. She didn’t understand why she would bother, especially when half of them had barely even read the book. She thanked her teacher with a mechanical politeness and went back to her seat via the bin, dropping the essay, the written evidence of her failure, as she went.



She sat upon the hard wooden seat in the courtyard reminiscing over her day, wondering how she was ever going to be able to face her English class again when a magpie, one of God’s worse creations and Alex’s greatest fears swooped low above her head, grazing her very top hairs. This sudden unexpected event forced her into a state of panic, and as she tried her hardest to hold back the flood of tears that were pressing hard against her eyelids she once again heard that ridiculous cackle that she was now beginning to associate with her own failure.

“Are you catching the train tonight?” Brittany asked in between her smothered laughs. Alex contemplated her two options for a few moments before nodding her head in agreement; even catching the train with Brittany was a better option than having to endure her father’s pointless conversations on the hour long journey home. Alex slowly picked up her miserable exhausted body, and lead weighted bag before heading off.




“Run!” Brittany screamed whilst forcibly dragging Alex in front of a tram and oncoming cars. Alex ran as fast as she could, as playing chicken with moving vehicles was not one of her regular pastimes, and whilst she may not admit it out loud she really did value her life, even if it was ultimately doomed for the streets. By the time they both reached the carriage of the Flinders street bound train she was exhausted and vowed that she will never stand up again. What a nightmare this day had turned out to be.

Together she and Brittany unwrapped the chips they had brought before boarding the tram and began to consume them, a slow form of suicide, one stick of cholesterol and clogged up arteries at a time. Was it possible to die before next Wednesday’s English SAC? By the time they reached Camberwell stationed Alex realised that they couldn’t get up because she had unsuccessfully managed to cradle the chips like a baby and they now sat sprawled across her lap, binding her to her seat.

At Glenferrie, Alex decided that if they travelled any further she would render herself broke because she would land herself in the city where the shops would tease and torment; lure her in like a stranger with candy. Her and Brittany burst through the train door, boarded another opposite and began the journey towards home, where she knew she would wallow away in her own self pity.

This second train journey, the 4.17 Belgrave, however, turned out to be the journey of a lifetime as she and her friend took themselves on a journey of self revelations. Through persistent whinging over the source of all evils, English class, they came to a startling and life altering realisation; together they were two halves of a whole. Alex, realised that with her knowledge and skills of structure, and Brittany’s flair for words they both could become great writers if they decided to go against the competitive grain of year 12 and work together instead.

Ten stations later they both stepped off the train, after nearly missing their station, as survivors of conflict. They just hoped that Miss Tendelli would notice how they had been shaped by this experience, or yet more importantly, how their work will have progressed.
I probably shouldnt be putting this up here, but i havent had time to draw for the last week or so.
This is a "mock" essay about my friend's and my day last friday and is intended to make fun of our English SAC which has the prompt:
"survivors of cnflict are shaped by their experiences"

Alex is a great girl who you can have a lot of fun with and, at times, can have a very immature streak to her which is great. She's also one of our school captains.
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Shebet's avatar
This is really good! :) What did your teacher say when she saw it??? You guys should help eachother write essays etc before SACS to become 'great writers in the competitive grain of Year 12'
Also, did you spend you friday evening going all the way to the city, and then all the way back home without actually getting out of the station??? Wouldn't it have been easier if you just stayed at Camberwell and had a 'journey of relevations' while sitting on a bench somewhere and eating?...